


Lovers In A Dangerous Spacetime

by AdriftInWriting



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Passengers (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/F, IN SPACE!, Lesbians in Space, Movie Reference, Movie: Passengers, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Spaceships, Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13789554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriftInWriting/pseuds/AdriftInWriting
Summary: In a journey that would take a little over 165 years, two lone passengers find themselves stuck with each other, having woken up far too early with no insight on how to go back to stasis. What happens over the course of years will change their thinking and, eventually, their feelings. Roughly based upon the script of ‘Passengers’ by Jon Spaihts and the 2016 film ‘Passengers’ by Morten Tyldum. More story-focused with an abundance of romance.





	1. Prologue - The Foreward March

**Author's Note:**

> A fair warning: If you've seen this film before or if you wanted to see what the film's about, please do not spoil it for others. If I even see one spoiler about the film in the comments, it's going to be set to moderated-only.
> 
> Otherwise, please enjoy. And yes, the title shares a name with a co-op shooter. I didn't intend it to be like that, it just popped up in my head and I ran with it.

Funny thing about Earth and technology. While one could always advance with more endless possibilities, the other could not. In 2045, a technological boom rippled across the world with the designs of interdimensional space travel. In the years that followed until 2076, Earth became overpopulated; everybody knew that if we never looked above us, they’d all die on a planet that could no longer sustain them. Human civilization could’ve easily broken through all the barriers they could, but none of it would matter if mankind were to be wiped out.

Thus, it was agreed upon from all corners of the planet that travelling outwards to the galaxy in search of a new home was the best possible choice going forward. So they did, try and find a place to call home. They tried, at the very least. The closest possible habitable planet revolving around a star similar to ours was merely several hundred light years away from their own solar system on the planet they dubbed, “Homestead II”.

Able-bodied citizens with the correct credentials were admitted, at the cost of leaving behind all they had known and cherished. From family, friends, wealth, power, reputation...anything and everything valuable, all of that would mean nothing in the new world. For some, that would’ve meant turning over a new leaf. For others, it would mean to populate and expand their own bloodline across the stars.

The first few missions were a success, though it took a bit longer given the fact that the technology wasn’t thoroughly tested. Nevertheless, people inhabited Homestead II with great success. More starships were planned with faster engines and bigger capacities for those who could go.

It is now the year 2241, and the Starship _“Overwatch”_ , hailed for being top of the line and the highest commended starship had been tasked with carrying over 6,500 passengers with a crew of just over 700 for maintenance on its third trip to Homestead II. No incidents have been reported with the ship since its maiden voyage.

That is...until now.


	2. Awaken To Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amélie finds herself awake and alone, having no idea what year it is and what's happening. From there, she meets a new person on-board who seems to have suffered the same fate as her weeks prior...

On-board the Starship Overwatch, all was quiet. The walls of the interiors were minimalist whites. Passengers remained undisturbed, until one pod gave a gentle beep. Suddenly, the airtight seal loosened itself up, depressurizing the chambers of one woman: Amélie Guillard. Upon the depressurization stage, she took in her first deep breath.

“Good morning, Miss Guillard. How are you feeling?”

An automated female voice had called out, as Amélie groggily opened her eyes, taking the next few breaths in. She felt completely rigid - likely from the cryo-sleep she had been placed in for this journey - and chose not to respond to the program.  Instead, she merely groaned, and it seemed to accept that as a response.

“It is normal for a person to feel disoriented. After all, you have just spent one hundred and sixty-five years suspended in animation.”

Had it already been 165 years into the future? If it was, well, Amélie must’ve been late to the party. As she eased into what would wait for her in the outside world, her mouth felt dry, as well as her stomach feeling like it was tightening up. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so hot and retched, trying to get bearings of her little pod.

A package of pills emerged first, to which Amélie could not reach for it. In fact, she didn’t even notice it for her grogginess was taking precedence over what was going on.

“...in the morning. Please do not overdose.”

The message had been talking to her even when she wasn’t paying attention fully, it seemed. Well, a shame she couldn’t hear whatever information was given.

“If you seek medical assistance, please ask for the medical bay where doctors will assist you.” The automated message continued on, before the tone of it became more sensual. “We hope you enjoy your stay on-board the Starship  _ Overwatch _ before you disembark to the Homestead!”

The cryo-chamber seals began to open up, air hissing from the decompression. Amélie took a deep breath to soothe her stomach and slowly rose up, trying to remember how to move her fingers and other body parts. The first thing she did was look around, noticing that all the other volunteers for this planetary voyage were still sealed within their own chambers.

“Please take your identification card situated with an accompanying lanyard, and follow the lights to be designated to your room. If you are lost, please consult the nearest bot.”

The message ended, and the instructions began doing what they had been set out to do. An ID card of Amélie’s was placed on a neat little platform, and lights immediately began blinking for indication. Those pills earlier that had been sitting comfortably on a tray alongside a newly filled glass of water for Amélie to consume. However, she wasn’t quite keen on taking an unknown set of pills, and opted to instead down that glass of water to quench that dry mouth of hers. From there, she took her ID and glanced over to the blinking lights.

By instinct, Amélie tried moving out of the tubing around her afterwards, where her feet touched the cold marble finish beneath her. Amélie’s foot tingled and a quiver ran up her spine at the sensation, and she moved the next foot. Then, she tried getting out.

It didn’t take long before her hips buckled from the lack of movement for who knows how long, and there she went, tumbling down on the floor. Nobody would come to save her, of course, so she had to take it slow. Her stomach churned from the unusual gravity of the spacecraft, though it was mild for the time being.

_ Get up, _ Amélie thought to herself,  _ get up now and get a doctor to examine you first. _

So, she did. She tried again, but this time, Amélie pressed the palm of her hand on the nearby wall to steady herself and to truly get acquainted with this ship. Much to her surprise however, the rather nauseating experience she was feeling grew in intensity over the passing minutes. Perhaps it was hibernation sickness from all the cryo-sleep, or the stiff rigidness of being trapped in suspended animation after all these years. Whatever the case, she felt ill, and her main priority after getting familiar with her cabin was to go find a doctor.

Amélie made it out of the cryo-chamber rows and into a massive concourse area. Granted, it was probably the most luxurious concourse she had ever seen with her two eyes. With a selection of colors ranging from brown, to cream, to red, and the occasional yellow within the walls and the furniture, it felt cozy and strangely, much like home. There seemed to be a secondary and tertiary floor, though an elevator upwards could not be seen, nor could a flight of stairs. Up on the ceiling loomed the star-lit sky, slowly moving as the starship moved along. Every corner around the promenade was curved, further adding to the sleek interior design of the starship. Occasional holovids of the reminders played, accompanied by the same automated female voice lady that had greeted Amélie earlier. 

Over in the distance, the sounds of a rushing water fountain were heard, and if one could listen carefully, the soothing engines of the starship could be heard humming just alongside. Windows peeked in towards other rooms, such as an area that seemed suitable for an indoor pool, or one that served as a quiet study. Overall, it was very daunting to take in every section of the interior all at once for one day.

The original plan of going to her designated cabin was immediately thrown out the window with this spectacle. Seeing as this was the grand plaza and perhaps the main lobby, Amélie had taken a bit of her time to explore the deck, only to find that it was completely empty. Literally, nobody was around to assist or guide her anywhere on-board. No shops had anybody to tend to them despite being open, nobody was eating anything, no smells were lingering in the air, nothing. Like space, it was full of beautiful sights and vast, open spaces with new surprises around every corner, but in the end, it was just empty all the same. If not for the maps dotted around the concourse, Amélie would’ve perhaps lost herself in the vast and futuristic shuttle.

Save for the roomba-esque droids that hovered on the ground cleaning up after some dirty spots around the place, there really was nobody around. By this logic, nobody would be in the med-bay, then. The next best alternative would be to find a trash can.

* * *

The next few minutes were quite painful, though it seemed to have passed by quick. Amélie did indeed find a trash can and vomited - though, not much came out. She immediately felt better, but it didn’t solve her otherwise congested head and the onset of lethargy coming in waves.

Without any medical examinations, the only good thing she could do was wait out the sickness, or try to look for medicine. After that, she would have to look for anybody else who might have woken up, because something was terribly wrong. If nobody in her row had woken up, and nobody else could be seen for miles and miles on-board the  _ Overwatch _ , why did she wake up?

Fortunately for Amélie, the latter of her plans had decided to come to her first. While she was sitting down next to the water fountain to plan her next move, a figure within the corner of her eye was slowly approaching her. She raised her head and looked over, seeing a rather young woman of small stature and spikey brown hair approach, though not paying any attention towards her.

Her attire was casual, with a pair of ripped jeans and a white T-Shirt that had a few black smudges that would’ve otherwise made the person before her look very clean and minimalistic. She seemed to be fixated on something, as her eyes were focused on looking at the floor rather than what was ahead of her. Even the black smudges on the girl’s shirt were present on her freckled face, though not as prominent.

In that moment, Amélie almost said  _ “Bonjour” _ . However, she hesitated, having recognized that not everybody on board was French. Even the demographic she remembered looking at was stated to have said that primarily everyone on-board knew basic English at the very least. She did too, but she was more or less fluent. Then, she tried again.

“Hello?” Amélie spoke softly, waving to get the girl’s attention.

The mystery woman looked up, and her eyes widened. She had blinked a few times, awkwardly waving back and began approaching Amélie. “Oh! Uh...hiya.”

“Do you know what’s going on? Nobody around here seems to be up, and nobody else from my row woke up either.”

Momentary silence. The woman before her just nodded and meekly responded back. “Mine too. I dunno either.”

Amélie softly hummed, hoping that the sour taste in her mouth would go away. She didn’t feel like eating right now, but she was curious that another person was on-board and awake. “Are you part of the crew or…?”

Mystery girl shook her head and lightly laughed once. “I could fix this ship, technically, but I’m a passenger.”

“Mechanic, then?”

“Sort of. I can work out how this ship functions but, I wouldn’t call myself a mechanic for it. I can open some doors, but not all. Can’t bypass food stations, so I make do. Y’know.”

A moment of relief waved over Amélie. Maybe this was her stroke of luck, and things would return back to normal real soon. Yet, she hadn’t even asked of the person’s name. Really, in the thick of the moment, she hadn’t thought about it.

“What’s your name?” She had asked, albeit weakly.

“Lena Oxton.” The mystery girl had responded back, having a gentle smile on her lips. “And you are?”

“Amélie La --” She caught herself, just before improperly introducing herself with the wrong surname.. “...No, that’s...that’s not right. Amélie Guillard. Yes. Guillard.”

Lena had nodded, and bowed her head a little, just before Amélie felt like retching again. The noise had caught her off guard as she flinched. “You don’t sound too well.”

In response, Amélie forced a short burst of laughter. “What gave that away, eh? The fact I’m sweating and pale as a ghost, or I just vomited whatever was left a century ago?”

In the eyes of Lena, it was both, but she preferred not to divulge into that. She smacked her lips, taking a gander around the concourse, until she pointed at the med-bay. “You try the medical bay yet?”

“Nobody’s in there.”

Lena however, raised an eyebrow and confidently smiled. “Doesn’t mean it’s closed, though.”

It sounded dumb at the time, but Amélie didn’t even think to check if the med-bay was closed or not. She had naturally assumed that if she was the only one on-board the  _ Overwatch _ , then it would be likely it’d be closed without some sort of clearance. She shifted herself over to where the med-bay was in time to see Lena walking inside. Lo and behold, the bay doors opened up, and in stepped Lena.

* * *

A few minutes later, it became a bit difficult for Amélie to keep her eyes open. Her sickness became a lot worse over the course of just getting up, but she refused to drift away. It was then she faintly heard footsteps come up from behind her again, and she turned around to see Lena carrying a glass of water and - surprisingly - the pills that her pod had given to her that she foolishly ignored.

“Here you are, some hibernation sickness medicine I found.” The freckled girl had reached out to hand over the pills and water. “Drink up!”

Amélie took the pills, popping them into her mouth while grabbing for the cup and downing said pills with the cold liquid. She groaned some, for the medicine tasted bitter and had left a rancid aftertaste down in the back of her throat. Clearing it didn’t help either; but eventually, after a couple more moments, it disappeared.

“Can’t believe the cryo-sleep machine didn’t spit out pills and water for you to take.” Lena had commented, sounding a bit curious as to why it didn’t. “Must’ve been a major malfunction.”

“It did, actually. I just didn’t think it was safe.”

“...Did the lady not mention that they were anti-cryo sickness pills?”

If she had listened - that is to say, if she could listen at the time - she might’ve not felt like absolute ass right now. All she could do was just make a nervous looking smile, and that was all that Lena needed to know.

Nevertheless, she had just chuckled and crossed her arms. “I don’t bloody think I would’ve taken ‘em either if the lady didn’t say or I didn’t hear it.”

Amélie forced a laugh, though she still felt too weak to do anything. Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong arms take hold of her figure.

“You should get some rest in the cabins. Here,” Lena lightly lifted up Amélie and began carrying her. “I know this situation’s awkward an’ all, given you just met me, but I think carrying you would save up your strength.”

She had no reason to object, and thus Amélie just nodded, moaning some in acknowledgement. Even after just a few hours of getting out of a few decades worth of sleep, she still felt exhausted. Lena began making her way down to the cabins, having traversed through the winding hallways until they had made their way in front of a sealed door. As if on cue, the door slid open to make way to a rather humble abode.

Compared to the rest of the ship minus the sleep pod area, the cabin itself was surprisingly minimalistic, yet contemporary. The walls were milk white, but the furniture was vividly sky blue with mixtures of ashen greys and bright oranges, just to stand out from the rest. Noticeably, there was an open - but reinforced - glass window that peered out into interstellar space, where a billion suns dotted the black void. Hexagonal shaped lights were carved into one of the walls, just to serve as a light source. At the time they entered, what remained of a spatial aurora disappeared into the darkness behind them. It was beautiful, albeit brief to notice.

“Welcome to the Oslo Suite, Lena Oxton.” A soothing female Norwegian-accented voice had announced, before the quiet engines of the Starship humming were the only noises left.

Though half-awake, Amélie felt herself being laid down on silky sheets, with a pleasantly soft bed and an even softer pillow to rest her weary head. Without resisting, she simply drifted off a little, struggling to even coherently come up with any thoughts right now. Parts of her had wandered around aimlessly, but not before she heard a few last words that a Cockney accent had spoke to her. If she weren’t so tired, it probably would’ve been something along the lines of, ‘Stay here and rest. Find me when you’re up and ready.’ and that was that for Amélie for the time being. She felt winded, and didn’t care about anything but going back to sleep as the doors slid back closed. Amélie would’ve then listened only to the hum of the ship’s engines, letting it carry her out to another world.


	3. Dinnertime Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having rested up, Amélie now awakens to something out of the ordinary in her personal suite. Thinking nothing of it, she departs down and finds herself hungering for food.
> 
> Then the gravity of the situation dawns upon her...

_“Unhh…”_ Amélie softly groaned, rolling around in the bed she had been placed in. She had no idea how long it had been since she was last ‘awake’, in a sense. Hell, telling time was hard when all you could see outside was just darkness, stars, and perhaps the occasional asteroid, or nebula. That was probably the only negative thing about space; nobody could tell the damn time because ye olde tricks didn’t work in an empty vacuum.

Luckily, the starship had been ever vigilant and up-to-date on keeping up with time that was familiar to a human being. As Amélie began rising up and at ‘em out of her bed, she was prompted with a greeting message by the same Norwegian-accented AI from earlier. Holographic imagery of the date and the temperature of the room was shown.

“Good evening, Miss Guillard. It is currently 8:52 P.M. on October 10th, 2260. The temperature is a cool 22 degrees.”

While the time, temperature, and overall day seemed pretty normal, the most curious thing that managed to shake Amélie up a bit was the fact the year was only 2260. She had boarded this ship at exactly the year 2241, and the Homestead Program had been around for quite a few entire trips worth thus far. Perhaps the AI was wrong?

Or maybe, perhaps Amélie was still out of it from the medicine, that too was a possibility. She didn’t quite know for sure, but 2260 seemed fairly short if the journey to Homestead II was to be within contact only after 165 years. She’d bet money it was faulty intelligence trying to pull her leg, considering Lena did say she could’ve messed with them if she wanted to.

Slowly dangling her feet on the floor, Amélie found herself feeling immensely better after the medicine kicked in and a little nap to get her feeling energized again. However, as soon as she tried making headway anywhere - in her case the closest lavatory up the stairs to wash her face - she almost tripped over herself. Judging by how things felt, she was still having a lethargic episode. Even then, that wouldn’t get the best of her after all. She fought against it, and went to the closest faucet to clear her pores and her mind.

In the mirror, a pair of soft almond eyes stared back at Amélie as she was examining to see if there was any oddities sticking out since she last saw herself. Luckily, there was nothing to worry about aside from a mild case of some semi-bloodshot scleras undoubtedly from waking up from cryo-sleep. Overall, she was refreshed. She did, however, feel hungry now that her motor functions and overall mood stabilized.

Just as a precaution, she would find herself clenching and unclenching both of her fists, raising them up and down just to test her motor skills. Reluctantly, not due to the supposed century’s lack of attempts, Amélie raised her leg up towards the roof and tried balancing herself. Considering her background as a ballet dancer, everything was fine. She had almost fallen over due to the sickness, but she had caught herself just as quick.

Her rather basic cryo-sleep uniform wouldn’t be sufficient enough if Amélie planned on venturing out for real. She had descended down the stairs from where the bathroom was to go search for any other sets of clothing. The etchings that the wall opposite to where she was looked promising. A rapid scan tool had examined Amélie just to make sure that this was the right person. After a quick confirmation, the wardrobe opened up, revealing a wide set of clothes predetermined to suit whoever was occupying this bedroom, all with a variety of sizes and colors to boot. It was rather unfortunate, however, that a large selection was either too baggy or too tight, and she hadn’t the faintest idea on how to adjust the settings to get another pre-made closet. She daren’t mess with the settings, lest something terrible would happen.

After finding the oddest mish-mash of clothing to wear, Amélie donned a cute lilac blouse and a modest length matching skirt in black, then a pair of stockings and some black pumps she had found to be about her size. It wasn’t all that conventional, considering she’d rather be wearing something more casual and comfortable, but the wardrobe itself was limited to her knowledge of how this ship worked for now. It seemed that Lena had been generous enough to attach a lanyard around Amélie’s ID card, and thus, with her identification card around her neck, she made her way out of the suite.

* * *

After fumbling about in the hallways a few times, Amélie had managed to find her way out of the maze of hallways with enough memory to remember where her designated suite would be. She had passed by countless other suites respectively named after locations, ranging from Manhattan, Kyoto, Berlin, Barcelona, Mumbai, and of course, Paris. While she had no access to all of them, she had wondered what they looked like in comparison to the Oslo suite. That’d be for another time, considering Amélie didn’t really think about anything but food.

When she returned back to the mezzanines in the grand concourse, she had found herself on the highest floor of the ship with a nearby elevator on standby. A rather alluring aroma had been caught in Amélie’s nose that made her stomach grumble some, but it smelled like a steakhouse. Taking the elevator down to the second floor, the scent of smoked meat being grilled grew more intense, and it beckoned Amélie to come find the source.

Eventually, she did find her way towards the steakhouse, oddly without a sign looming over it. It lacked a sign due to the fact that the holographic display outside seemed to be short-circuiting, which prevented its true name to be obscured in static. Its appearance was quite rustic just from the exterior inwards with its dark, auburn woods and smokey grey floor panels. There were several humanoid looking robots hovering at the ready, while one had a large tray filled with plentiful plates of food. Amélie’s eyes trailed behind that robot, where they had met with a familiar face from earlier.

Lena had been staring at an electronic slate of sorts containing what looked like a diagram for something that Amélie could not make out. It seemed that in the time she was resting, Lena had taken the time to wash up just a little bit. Her hair wasn’t as spikey, but it was still prominent. Her shirt was changed to a light grey button-up as well, but the jeans stayed. In Lena’s hand, she had held a beer glass half empty that she had set down just as the waiter-bot began setting down the plates. “ _ Bife Ancho _ , medium-rare as you requested.” The robot spoke, in a rather distinctly Portuguese accent.

There was a simple nod before Lena’s attention from the slate changed, for it focused on Amélie awkwardly standing at the entrance and staring at her. She looked up to the waiter and pointed over by the front. “She’s with me. Would you mind escorting her here?”

“ _ Claro, senhora. _ Enjoy your meal.” The robot spoke, obediently bowing shortly after. In the moments that followed, it hovered over towards Amélie and extended its arm out. “If you will,  _ Senhorita _ Guillard.”

Without objecting, Amélie took the robot’s hand and quietly walked towards the table where Lena was comfortably stationed at. In return, the freckled Brit gave a polite wave and a welcoming smile towards her guest, grabbing a knife and a fork before cutting up a tender piece of meat for her to try out.

When Amélie sat down just across from her, she had decided to take a look around, soaking in the rustic decorations and the enticing smell of charcoal and fine cuts of beef in the air. One of the robots handed her an eye-catchingly designed menu to order from. Its hand extended out by a modest length and projected a hologram, with the words ‘For Amélie’ written on it, followed by a bold underline. The rest was blank for the time being.

While everything stood out to her in terms of how expansive this menu was, Amélie wanted something a bit small, but filling. After not eating for what seemed like a century and a half - in her mind, anyway - she wanted to start off with something simple and not extravagant or sophisticated. One of the items on the menu was promptly named  _ ‘Bife de Lomo’ _ , and the description of it sounded more like a  _ filet mignon _ , which was perfect for what she had in mind.

“Can I get #8, please?” She had muttered softly, almost forgetting how to speak. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, could I get a #8?”

“ _ Bife de Lomo _ ? Of course. What kind of sauce would you like?”

The choice was between burgundy or cream of mushroom.

“Mushroom cream, please. On the side, not smothered.” Amélie requested.

“And how would you like that cooked?”

“Medium rare sounds fine, thank you.” As she had said that, the order displayed itself on the hologram.

“Would you care for a drink or beverage,  _ senhorita? _ A margarita, perhaps?”

“No, thank you. I’m not in the mood for alcohol right now. I’ll have cold water.”

If were to drink any, it’d be likely she’d vomit it again at any rate. With nothing but simple water to slake her thirst, the robot’s hologram disappeared as it pulled back its hand and began floating away back to the kitchen. As it disappeared behind the scenes, Amélie focused her attention back towards her fellow passenger. “Found you.”

“Was it really that hard, luv?” Lena teased and chuckled, before briefly returning back to the electronic slate in front of her. “While you were resting I tried finding a way to access something more than just bland food. Looks like it worked for one restaurant so far, but I gotta try more tomorrow.”

That chipper attitude quickly turned sour as she read bits of info. Groaning, Lena set down the board and slid her hand across her face. “This...this is unreal.”

“Do you mind?” Amélie picked up the holo-board with her hands, without any protest from Lena about it. She quietly examined what the fuss was about, and found that it was a map detailing what doors were open, or could be opened, and what doors were still locked. A distinct little area of the map labeled ‘Maintenance Deck’ had been glowing a bright and erratic red, while the rest of the ship had a vivid and calming green.

“I don’t see what the problem is outside of the red alert.” She had said, setting the slate down. “Unless you’ve been trying to open that part up.”

“That’s the thing! I have been, for like, the past three days!” Her hands were thrown in the air, and they fell down just as quick as they were raised. “Something’s wrong with the ship and I can’t figure it out if the fuckin’ door’s not gonna open.” Lena sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. She cut up another part of her steak and plopped the piece of meat into her mouth to chew on. The distraught feeling she had would be mutual if it was Amélie in her shoes. “I’m gonna attempt to bust it open again tonight. If it doesn’t work, I can’t fix it.”

Lightly humming, Amélie crossed her arms and lifted up her shoulders briefly. Her legs crossed themselves, and she laid back on her chair. It’s only been less than a day, and she’d need to get up to speed on the situation. More importantly, she wanted to get to the bottom of this mess and get it sorted out immediately.

She didn’t like seeing another person quite upset, so Amélie had decided to merely change the topic. “Well...while we’re waiting, tell me more about yourself.”

“What d’ya wanna know?” Lena cocked her head to the side, taking a sip of her beer.

Rubbing her chin, Amélie thought about it for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “How long have you been here?”

“About twenty-ish minutes, I think? I mean, it was getting boring and uh --”

“I meant awake.”

“Oh! Um...I’ve...been here for about three or so weeks…” Lena just nervously chuckled and ran her hand across the back of her head. “Feels like it’s been longer without anybody else here with me.”

Quite odd, that was. A person had awoken three weeks earlier than she did, yet out of the plentiful groups of passengers on-board the starship, Amélie was the second one to wake up.

“What about your life, Lena? What was your life back on Earth like?”

She swallowed, then smacked her lips. “W-well, you know my occupation already, so...I wanna say my life was great, but it was more or less empty. I’d be lying if I said I was happy with it.”

“Why is that?” Amélie listened on, calmly asking questions every step of the way.

“Mum died from an allergic reaction to pain pills. Dad bit the dust a year later in a car accident.” Lena just shrugged, unsure of what else to say. “Siblings...can’t say. I left when they all got married.”

“So you ran?”

Lena just shook her head. “More like got back to the basics. Turn over a new leaf. I’d have never left if my parents didn’t die.”

The moment turned a bit somber, but Lena wouldn’t let it beat her down on the ground. Instead, she returned back to her gentle smile and raised an eyebrow. “What about you, Am...Amélie? Did I pronounce that right?”

With a reassuring nod, Amélie lightly chuckled. Nobody had ever really gotten her name wrong, but she guessed that maybe there was a first time for everything.

“Ballet dancer. Or, used to be.” She had a bright smile, proudly remembering her time when she was on the biggest stage of her life. Unfortunately, all good things came to an end, much like her mood out of a sudden. Amélie frowned. “I was also married. Used to be as well.”

“Happily?” Lena asked.

“A little. My husband - Gérard was his name - gave a lot to me. But...I wanted something more out of life. A chance to start new, much like you.”

“Are you sure  _ you _ didn’t run away?” She teased, laughing at her own expense. Amélie did as well, but she shook her head in disagreement.

“No, not at all. We divorced after I said I wanted to travel to the Homestead. He was furious that I wanted to give up a perfectly good life just to start over. The rest is history.”

“Poor guy, losing someone as pretty as you.”

Now that was just outright flattery. It made Amélie blush a little, but she flicked the air with her wrist and brushed off the notion as a simple compliment. “He has a mistress now, last I checked. He’ll be fine.”

“Not the only thing fine ‘round here.” Lena teased once again, impishly grinning this time. Now, Amélie raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you hitting on me?”

The freckled girl just laughed it off, taking another sip of her beer before setting it down. “That’s the alcohol talking! I’m sorry. Keeping the mood positive, too.”

While the conversation was getting a bit more comfortable, the food had arrived as indicated by the robot opening up the doors and carrying a plate filled with a fillet of beef, alongside a stacked side of mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus. In one small cup, the cream of mushroom sauce had been set aside. The robot set down the plate and dispensed a fork and a knife from its body, neatly wrapped in a white napkin.

“ _ Bife de Lomo _ , medium-rare as requested.”

_ “Merci.”  _ Amélie politely replied back with a warm smile.

“Enjoy your meal, established guests. If you require assistance, please feel free to call upon us.”

With a light bow, the robot hovered away somewhere else, where the area was now just the two girls alone. Lena had been halfway finished with everything on her plate when Amélie received her own set, and the both began to slowly dine out with each other.

* * *

After dinner, Lena had proceeded to maybe slip in one more thing before she’d call it a night, which was trying to open up the lower bay area, where the engines and other intricacies for this interstellar travelling spaceship would be located. Amélie agreed to tag along, if it meant getting to the bottom of why they had woken up without a trace of other passengers doing the same. Choosing pumps was not a good idea for this, because her heels hurt like hell after a while. But, if it meant suffering just a little longer, so be it.

When they arrived, they were greeted with the sight of an abundance of destroyed wires, a screwdriver, some wirecutters, and a toolbox containing other non-relevant objects to get this door open. It seemed that the door was only opened up a tenth of the way, and thus wasn’t big enough for any average person to slip through.

“Bit messy. Sorry in advance if it ruins your blouse!” Lena chuckled, moving forward and getting back to work. The first thing she grabbed were the wirecutters, casually placing them nearby underneath the circuit boards. The mechanic herself had then dipped down underneath, flicking on a flashlight on the way down.

Meanwhile, Amélie tried to peek inside where this door would lead. The glass pane had been cracked - no doubt by one of the various tools meant to destroy - but she could see holograms of the ship and flickering lights. Then her attention moved over to Lena, though her eyes were focused on the glass itself. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Bit of liquor isn’t gonna impair my judgement and kill us all if I cut the wrong wire.” Lena replied back, grabbing a hold of those wirecutters from earlier. She hesitated, though eventually cut a small, elongated blue wire that twisted into a spiral. In response, the door had opened up even more now, but it was still not enough for any one of them to slip into. The door sliding open more made Amélie almost fall back out of the sheer surprise.

“That do anything?” Lena spoke out from the circuit board, not wishing to pop out just yet. Amélie regained her footing and could hear some light beeping from the other side.

“The door’s mostly open.” She replied back.

Upon hearing this, Lena went to work on trying to look for the next wire to cut. She traced them all around the place, occasionally pushing jumbled up ones out of the way or cutting them just to get a better view of what was behind them. It was getting a bit cramped in there just searching for the wire, so Lena had to press her cheek up against the metal insides. At last, she found another spiralled blue wire, and proceeded to cut that one too.

Now the door had opened at least big enough for somebody to fit through without getting cramped, Lena slid out of the circuit boards and smiled, having gained a grey smudge on her cheek from pressing up against the surface from earlier. “Be lucky I got a full stomach else we’d have never gotten anywhere.”

“I’m sure the beer helped too.” Amélie teasingly replied back, to which Lena might’ve chuckled a bit on. She then turned her focus to the door, now 60% open. Lena walked in, and as soon as she did, the lights in the room lit up on their own. Amélie followed in tow, and the both of them had wandered around just examining all of the ship’s integrity on the inside.

On the main control center, there were multiple warnings blinking red, which Lena caught first. One that looked quite irrelevant disappeared shortly after by her own button press to make it go away, only to be replaced by something new that was much more deserving of their attention.

There was no projected trajectory for this ship. The projector for it was slightly damaged by the Overwatch passing by a large asteroid field approximately two years earlier at 2239, and had yet to fix itself as it should have.

Lena turned around to where the projection was supposed to be, and saw the projector dislodged from its original position. Most of its internal wiring had been pulled out just from the sheer force of the asteroids alone, and it was much higher than she could reach. Amélie on the other hand, she might’ve been able to.

Speaking of, she had arrived over this side of the area after finding nothing of interest on the other side. She took notice of the alerts and then turned over to Lena, then to where she was looking.

“I can’t reach that.” Lena calmly said.

“Reach what, exactly?” Amélie asked.

She pointed over to her main focus of attention. “That projector.”

Without speaking any more words, Amélie already knew what that meant. She walked up to it and examined the dislodged machine, just hanging by the core connector that keeps it alive. She plugged the cords back in where she thought they might belong in, and then a projection of a hologram booted back up. Amélie slipped the projector back in its place, and now it fit perfectly in the big empty space.

The two of them were across from each other now, taking a look at the calculated time of arrival and how far the ship really was in.

Nothing seemed to change from what Amélie had saw in her room earlier. The time had moved on from 8:52 PM to 11:35 PM, but the day and the year still remained the same: October 10th, 2260. In this room, there can be no errors. This was the mainframe where all the data was correctly input, and no mistakes could be made.

Now the reality of it all had crushed Amélie. “We woke up too soon.” she faintly whispered, clenching her hands. “How did we wake up too soon?”

In that moment, Lena said nothing. She only pursed her lips and turned away. “I don’t know. I thought it might’ve been a bug too, but…” her voice trailed off, and she shook her head.

“What do we do now?” Amélie frantically cried out. “We have to go back to sleep, right?”

“I tried.” Lena replied. “It just locks you in before spitting you back out.”

For a moment it looked like Amélie was going to have a breakdown, but Lena didn’t want to let her do that. She reached out and held Amélie in her hands, lightly rubbing her back to calm her down. 

“We’ll figure something out,” Lena had assured her, “and then this’ll just feel like a bad dream.”

For now, they needed some time to just reconsider their situation. Lena carried Amélie out of this place, and both of them headed back to the mezzanine where they’d depart back to their own personal suites.

Things were only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently dealing with a very serious health issue that came up over Spring Break. This was going to be originally published a week ago.


	4. Failure to Communicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following day, Amélie and Lena discuss what to do on-board this ship now that they've realized their situation. Whatever happens, however, does not go as planned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are several easter eggs in this chapter. Try and find them all!

In the hours that followed, Amélie returned to her own suite and felt a sense of unease rush over her. The idea of being trapped in space and having no future beyond this ship felt like a kick in the teeth. Was this journey to Homestead II doomed to fail for the both of them? Was this going to be the end of her new life before it even began?

She laid in bed for several hours, unmoving, and unfeeling. Amélie couldn’t help but feel hopeless in this moment in time, unable to drift off to sleep knowing that there had to be something that could be done to readjust this colossally fucked up situation.

It wasn’t until the next day that came did Amélie rise out of the comfort of her bed, realizing it was already a day later. She felt neither tired from overthinking nor exhausted from a lack of sleep; the anxiety in her head kept her awake every second.

The time read 7 in the morning, with the same temperature as last night. The least she could do was get clean and explore more of the ship to understand it, and maybe get more acquainted with Lena. Maybe, just maybe, she could do something and recount the days aboard this ship until her timely death.

Nevertheless, she would have to think about it later. Amélie stripped off her evening clothes from the night before and deposited them into a sliding laundry basket from the wall. From there, she entered into a large space where the shower was, pressed a small button, and let the water from the showerhead envelop her in its soothing warmth.

When she cleaned herself up fully, Amélie treaded back downstairs, wrapped in a cozy white towel just to be modest to herself. She still felt like utter shit from hearing the dreadful news from earlier, and not even a shower could cleanse her of that. She reached the etchings where the wardrobe was, but this time however, she attempted to figure her way into another pre-made closet, preferably to her own liking. The scanner seemed only to give confirmation that this was indeed the right person, but there were multiple buttons unlabeled inside that Amélie hadn’t touched.

Thus, she pressed a few of them. One just shut the closet by itself, another rotated the closet around, and another asked to change the type of seasonal attire the closet could contain with the same sizes. The last button she pressed was the one that would give the command she needed. Once she had pressed it, a window prompt asked if she wanted to confirm. She did.

Now the scan tool performed another one of its automated checks, but this time it scanned the entirety of Amélie’s body. Then it opened up, revealing a closet filled with all new and all different attire than before. Given how the ship knew her specifics, the clothes felt more regionally appropriate to her tastes. The best part about this was that all of it fit her perfectly; all of it felt snug, as if she wore these all her life already.

Another basket opened up nearby so Amélie could remove her towel and get properly dressed. She reached for a simple beige blouse and black slacks. By the time she had gotten fully dressed in comfortable clothing, the time was already 8 o’clock. The last thing to put on her form was a lanyard holding onto her identification card.

She proceeded to head out of the suite once more, and just as she opened up the sliding door, Lena had been standing just outside, her left arm outstretched and her hand clamped into a fist, as if she were about to knock. She looked about the same, although her t-shirt now was a different color, being orange instead of white.

“Oh! You’re up.” Lena gave a soft smile, trying to hide a bit of her embarrassed blush. “Did you uh...did you get any sleep?”

Disappointingly, Amélie shook her head no. “I don’t think I can sleep knowing my life is over before it even began.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not really, no.”

Lena’s smile faded, and she pursed her lips together. Now both of her hands were balled into fists. “Guess ya can’t really sleep when ya did it already for a century or two.”

“Never you mind that,” Amélie lightly grinned. “Why’d you come here?”

“Oh! I-I uh...wanted to check and see if things were okay.” Lena stuttered and nervously laughed, accompanied with a big and dumb grin on her face, her blush now more prevalent than previously. “I-If you weren’t gonna open up the door I’d have assumed you were sleeping.”

For a moment, Amélie hummed and shrugged, thinking nothing of it right now. She noticed that Lena had taken a few steps back, since she was blocking the doorway. Thus, Amélie moved along slowly across the hallway and to the promenade with Lena in tow. The automated roombas continued cleaning on as the two of them passed by several cleaning what already looked like spotless floors.

* * *

 

When Amélie reached the promenade itself, she leaned over the railing, letting her hands hang freely. With Lena by her side shortly after, she focused her attention over to the mechanic. “What’re we going to do?”

“Not sure myself, luv. Been asking that for a while now.” Lena muttered. She then crossed both of her arms and set them on the railings, letting her head rest on the both of them for the time being. “I’ve not thought of a thing we could do that’s viable.”

She clicked her tongue and indistinctly whispered French to herself, but then her eyes lit up. “Did you ever try getting back into the chamber?”

“First thing I did.” Lena meekly nodded. “Got trapped in for six bloody minutes! Almost suffocated, for all that was worth...”

Well, that ruled one thing out permanently. But there had to be some way to go back to sleep, one way or another. Whether it be through tricking the system, forcing it manually, or otherwise. Amélie indistinctly whispered some other ideas, looking around the promenade for any sort of ideas. All around them were just closed restaurants, clothes shops and gift shops, empty meeting areas, and hallways that led to other parts around the ship.

“What about those suspended animation pills I overheard some people talk about before we departed?”

Lena tilted her head, as if never hearing about those in her life. Though in the few moments, something in her head clicked and she exclaimed. “Oh! Those. Um...those are for like, a few months worth of sleep. It’s not designed to last for a century. And besides,” she shrugged, “you’d still be aging at a slower pace under those effects. We’d have liver spots by the time we’d wake up.”

Amélie stamped on her foot lightly. She pondered about it longer than she’d care to admit, because their options were limited and her patience was growing thin. Her eyes began staring up into the ceiling where the stars were slowly moving along, and then it hit her. She snapped her fingers, and had a bright smile on her face. “Have you tried making contact with other ships? A-any ship?”

Unfortunately, Lena nodded her head once more. “That too. It’d take a lifetime for it to send, and another to return.”

Somehow, this managed to irritate Amélie a little bit. She clenched her fists together and angrily shook her head. “That’s not good enough. You have to keep trying until every option’s exhausted. We have to try something - anything!”

Just then, Amélie’s ears overheard an automated message.

“If you would like to listen to your messages over the past century and a half, please visit your nearest messaging station in the concourse!”

Lena stared over to Amélie and lowered her head while maintaining eye contact. Quickly, Amélie ran down the hallways with Lena right behind her. Several times however, out of pure ignorance, she’d almost trip over the floor roombas or crash into walls. Maybe her disorientation was kicking back in one last time, or maybe it was over-excitement overriding her motor skills. Whatever the case, she had made it downstairs.

As she made it to the messaging station, Lena took in a few deep breaths to calm her beating heart a little. She hadn’t run in a little while, so getting used to running again was gonna be a little awkward.

At the same time she was catching her breath, that familiar voice that woke Amélie up began to speak again, followed by a hologram of a generic blonde woman on the screen. It smiled, and bowed to Amélie.

“Welcome to the Starship  _ Overwatch _ ’s messaging station #240516. How may I serve you?”

“I’d like to send a message.” Amélie spoke to the system.

“Please insert your identification card at the center of the console.”

Amélie then slid her lanyard off and stuck her card as was instructed. After a few brief milliseconds, all of the data for her showed up on the screen. In her inbox were some two thousand messages that dated all the way back to 2241, with the latest being last month in September from her ex-husband.

“Well, looks like Miss Popular’s got some fanmail to get crackin’ to!” Lena teased, giggling to herself. “Can’t wait to read those.”

Not like she was going to read them at this very moment, but nevertheless Amélie laughed along. “Sure. Maybe I’ll let you read how much fanmail I get. A fair warning though,” she paused to show Lena the screen and all the titles for her mail. “all of these are overly dramatic love letters.”

“Sounds fun, lemme read one right now!” Lena scooted over to where Amélie was. She pressed on one random mail, disabling the holographic message and cleared her throat. She then pressed on the ability to read it through text instead.

“My fairest lady,” she began reading out, her accent turning posh, “why doth thou marry such an uncouth savage such as Gérard? ‘Twas it perchance the man purchased thine ethereal love --” 

Was this even real? Lena couldn’t keep a straight face throughout all of that. She wanted to kneel over laughing at how, truly, these were really dumb and really dramatic. Whoever’s bright idea was it to write something that looked like a highly exaggerated Shakespearean sonnet was truly inept.

“God, that’s terrible and I feel terrible for reading past the first sentence.” She shook her head.

Amélie just nodded and shrugged. “You should feel bad. Because they’re all terrible.”

In response, Lena stuck out her tongue in disgust, giggling to herself. She felt a light push to signal that it was Amélie’s turn to actually get down to business. Both of their smiles faded and Amélie’s focus was now fully on composing the emergency message to other ships.

“Compose letter.” Amélie commanded to the AI controlling the messaging.

“Who is the recipient, Miss Guillard?” The AI questioned back over.

“The closest Starship.” She responded back.

“The Starship Petras is the closest Starship available according to its navigational systems linked up to ours.” A small beep for confirmation was heard. “Please enter in the contents of this mail.”

With a clearing of her throat, Amélie opened up her mouth, taking in a deep breath.

“This is the Starship  _ Overwatch _ . We appear to have an issue where myself and another passenger have awoken too early, and we request emergency repairs. Please come as soon as possible.”

After a second of buffering, the letter - while short and to the point - finished writing itself with Amélie’s words.

“The message will be received within 60 years. A response will be sent in another 60 years. Is this okay?” The AI had asked for confirmation. The little hologram representing it had smiled and tilted its head, waiting for a response.

“I told you.” Lena bitterly remarked. “A lifetime.”

“No.” Amélie felt her heart skip a beat. “Another close-by Starship. There has to be another one.”

“The Starship Normandy will receive the message within 72 years. A response will be sent in another 72 years. Is --”

The AI was interrupted again with Amélie pounding her fists on the console. “Non!” She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “That’s not even remotely closer.”

Lena stepped a little closer towards Amélie and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Please, Amélie. It’s not gonna work, don’t --”

“It has to! Something has to!” Amélie balled her hands into fists again, then turned over to the console. “How about the closest planet, is that an option?”

Her voice was now frantic, but Lena nervously swallowed and turned her gaze downwards. She shook her head.

“Planet Oasis will receive the message within 128 years. A response --”

Once again, the AI was interrupted, and Amélie never felt more defeated in her life. Her from sunk down like a deflated balloon. “This  _ cannot _ be happening...merde!”

By now, Lena had to physically pull the other woman away from the messaging system. Fortunately for her, it wasn’t particularly difficult because Amélie didn’t protest or fight back. She took a few deep breaths, then moved over to shut off the system temporarily before turning back to Amélie.

“I’ve been told I always had plans to get myself out of situations real fast.” Lena explained, lifting up Amélie’s chin. “I’ve been on-board this ship for who knows how long and...I’ve tried everything.”

“Did you try figuring out if you could awaken the repair crew to fix this?” Amélie asked, and just a simple nod was all that Lena gave, and it confirmed the worst for Amélie. 

“After about a week of ideas, I tried getting into the crew’s quarters. That door is sealed shut, and I can’t bypass it without the captain’s pass.” Lena replied back. “Put it simply? We’re fucked, mate.”

There would be no easy solution in sight. She covered her mouth with one hand, cursing to herself once more. Amélie shook her head and deeply sighed. “I think I’ll gladly take that drink offer from the rustic steakhouse.”

That had brought an idea into Lena’s mind. Her eyes brightened up and she smiled, before extending out her hand in a modest length towards the other woman. “I think I might know a friend who could help.”

Amélie would gladly take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My final chapter before I depart to my vacation for about a week. I'll be writing more and I'll post the chapters as soon as I can!
> 
> As for my health if you're wondering, I'm doing better than previously. Thanks for sticking by!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find/follow me on my [Tumblr](http://adrift-in-writing.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/adriftinwriting) You're always welcome to shoot me messages there or here.


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